


Happiest Nuclear Winter

by mccafejeffery



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Mutants, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Blood and Gore, Gardens & Gardening, Guns, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Legends, Mental Health Issues, Mutant Segregation, Orphans, Post-Nuclear War, Torture, Winter, hidden past
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-07 21:44:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16416521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mccafejeffery/pseuds/mccafejeffery
Summary: They lived in a time of self expression and radiation.  The lived inside the confines of a dirty, concrete wall, protecting them from the wasteland around them. Though their world was controlled, it was fair. That fairness was stripped away when you are label Advanced. Believed to be the cause of radiation poisoning and teenage hormones, they were trapped in by yet another concrete wall and given only a few hours of daylight and controlled rations to fend off their supernatural abilities. Besides, human want to control what they can't understand.(or a remake of 'Lay Down and Wake Up In Slowtown'.)





	1. One

He tossed the worn red beanie onto his musty smelling hairs. His warm eyes scanned the dusty, green paint that peeled off of the window behind his bed. His nimble hands pulled up the thick wool socks high above his ankles once he tore his attention away from the window sill. The iron farmed bed next to his was still occupied with young bones and midnight hair. The dark haired boy twisted his his light sleep. The other waited for him to awake, just like every morning.

The building they were kept in was only two stories of rotting, damp wood. Every window was painted in a puke green that peeled away to show faded, weathered wood. The window panes were darkened with a special wash to keep the sun's deadly rays out. Everything in the orphanage was was a faded, dark wood. The stairs were always dry and rough, Tyler had gotten splinters several times in his short life on the pads of his feet. The wooden floor in the teens' bedroom was always damp to the touch. Tyler was told ever since he was a toddler that there wasn't enough resources to go towards the very small group of forgotten orphans in the city of only about five thousand. The boy and all his peers knew to fend for themselves. Nobody wanted to invite a grumpy teen into their household. Tyler and the others fought like siblings, they had played and grew up with each other. They knew how each other ticked. There were only four orphan kids who lived at Armstrong's Orphanage anymore: Nicole, Jenna, Brendon, and Tyler himself. Brendon was a tall, toned boy of sixteen, his raven hair always swopped back and leather jacket from before The Bang. No one in the entire closed in city had a jacket like Brendon's. A small patch made of thread was attached to his right sleeve in the shape of what Brendon said was a 'flower'. Of course, Tyler had seen flowers, they just weren't like the wavy, red, full petaled one on the jacket. The 'flowers' he had seen crumpled and crunched under the weight of his soft soled shoes. Those flowers were always are faded, ugly color, just like everything else in his hometown. 

"Brendon, breakfast. The girls are already up." Tyler mumbled, his voice gravely with his dry throat and clouded with sleep. Tyler filled the space between his and Brendon's bed with his wiry frame. Tyler was built with naturally small bones and skin tightly wrapped around him. His skin was always constantly sun kisses, even though he followed the regulation of only three hours of direct sunlight contact. 

Brendon groaned in response. Pulling up his body, Brendon pulled his full lips into a tight line. "I don't wanna go to school." 

Tyler sighed and stood on bare feet, unfazed by the dew seeping into the wool of his sock. "I'll see you downstairs." With that, Tyler strutted through the putrid green framed open door that made the yellowing wallpaper seem stark white. Tyler leaned over the banister of a dark stained color to see one of the girls, Jenna, pulling her large, red, wool coat over her dress. Three other coats sat limply on crooked hooks next to the windowless door. "Morning!" The boy called from the top of the staircase with chipper attitude. 

Jenna turned, her tight braid of long blonde locks swayed with her. It was tied with a baby blue ribbon that she had gotten during Winter Solstice last year from Mr. Armstrong. Her big, round eyes were a much brighter blue, speckled with a misty grey. "Morning!" She replied. She flashed a smile before returning to button her coat. 

The jogged down the rough steps, skipping the bent wood plank that is splintered in the middle. Mr. Armstrong never bothered to fix it. Tyler walked past Jenna who had opened the door to leave, school books in hand. Tyler slid into the small, dim kitchen where on the polished wooden counter sat his cold bowl of oatmeal. The only two people left in the house were Brendon and Tyler. Nicole tended to leave much earlier then the other children. She was the oldest at seventeen, she had a morning job at the bakery two blocks away and then had her schooling. She would turn eighteen a only a month into the new year and she would be able to leave. Nicole said see had saved enough money to rent out one of the elderly couples' that lived behind spare bedrooms for a year. The orphans were huddled around the small, fading fire that night, and Nicole had one a smile brighter than the radiated sun during summer that night. 

Tyler quickly scarfed down his tasteless meal and hurried to the living room to gather his books. As soon as he was pulling on his coat, Brendon bolted down the staircase and into the kitchen. 

"No need to rush, we have more than enough time to get to town square." Tyler's sleepy voice bounced off of the weak walls. In seconds, Brendon appeared in the hallway, one arm through his leather jacket and one foot hopping to keep balance as he pulled his boots on,

"Let's go!" He announced, body already out the door.


	2. Two

The wind nipped like a dog at their already rosy cheeks and noses. The soil and sand below their soft soled boots caked over the toes in thick mud. The earth squished under the two boy's weight as they treaded through the dirt streets. The taller boy had wrapped his leather bound arm around the smaller. Tyler was all skin and bones. He was barely able to eat more than a bowl of oatmeal breakfast. On the other hand, Brendon could scarf down everyone else's meals in a matter of seconds. They were fed well, three small, but filling meals each day. Nicole had once told Tyler of the sweet pastries at the bakery. She told of whipped cream topped spongy cakes that were bright yellow in color and rich chocolates. Nicole made dinner that night, she was absent mindedly chopping up rotted vegetables for a stew. Her loose blonde hair was waving as she swung her hips happily. Tyler still had not tried cakes or chocolate yet.

Brendon's voice reached out from the veil of the colorful thought, slicing it into greys, "Your birthday is next month, right?" Brendon's full, smooth voice muttered into Tyler's frosty ears. His firm hand dug Tyler's ribs into the squeaky leather. Tyler nodded. "Sixteen years, man. Sixteen!" His voice rose and fell in excitement. His chilly hands squeezed the dark wool of the younger's thin coat. Tyler smiled, eyes crinkling in laughter.

Brendon's mind melted into the sweet sound. His laugh was a deep pool of honey, sprinkled with the warmth of a winter's fire. Tyler's toothy smiles was golden as Nicole's hair in the summer. The tan skin covering his bones was painted with a watery hue like the flower on his jacket. Brendon knew that smile well, it warmed the core of his soul, even in the dog bite winter.

"Do we have a test today?" Tyler's choppy voice chimed, the ghostly online of his hit breath fading. The darkened windows they pasted began to glow with the light of burning candles. Electricity was scarce, only used to power government buildings. Those buildings were located closer to the dry, flaking cement walls than anything else was. For extra protection from the public there was a barbed wire fence. No exit made a hole in the sturdy structure, the only way out of Salutem was to go over. Hooked to the think, grey wall was more barbed wire. It was all protection from the barren wasteland surrounding the survivors.

Brendon hummed in confirmation, "It's over radiation."

Tyler stuffed his numb hands into his pockets, leaning into the warmth of the taller boy. His bright red used beanie scratched at Brendon's neck. "It's the same test every year. They've drilled the effects into our skulls." Tyler droned, honeycomb eyes rolling.

They walked in silence. Thick leather and the tall body next to him shielded him from the icy gusts behind him. The muddy, rocky pathway opened up to a set brick circle. The circle of terracotta connected all the roads to their side of town. Bodies hurried around, adults pushing past the two connected boys. Chatter was sent through low murmurs. Slabs of concrete lined the stores that casted shadows as dark as the clouds above. In the middle of the circle was untreated wood built into a platform. The local Officers used it for public discipline. The young boys had seen a few other circles like the one they lived close to. The city of Salutem was spacious, although only housing under five thousand living beings.

The boys stepped up on to the sidewalk, still finding refuge in each other's heat. Tyler grinned as he dug his head into the crook of Brendon's neck.

Then a high pitched scream filled the town square. Everyone crisscrossing through the flow of people stopped in their tracks, feet glued to the floor.

A man in black, face hidden by a tinted visor, dragged a small strawberry kissed boy no older than Brendon and Tyler was dragged to the center from behind a building. The boy kicked his limbs frantically. His eyes were blown up in fear as he shrieked. His coat had been left behind, leaving shaking boy in only a loose t-shirt and deep red gloves. His small frame was slammed on to the wooden platform with a dull this. The unknown boy let out a low groan that turned to a sob. The soldier who dragged him pushed his metal soled boot into his back. In twisted humor, he stomped down his matte boot on the boy.

The Officer spoke, gravely voice bouncing off the window panes, "This boy," he pointed to the distressed boy under him with a tightly gloved hand, "this mutant," The slur was drawn out. Tyler had only heard mutant used as a heavy insult for someone disgusting. A gasp of only slight volume escaped his cold lips. "Has been poisoned by radiation! He'll be put away just like other mutant scum." The Officer snarled, the reaching into his pocket and retrieving a bracelet of bright green. It was the color of the clouds during an acid rain, an eye sore. He snapped the piece around the poor boy's wrist and pulled him up, pushing him off the stage.

The people around them continued their walks as the screaming boy was pulled away. Tyler and his companion picked up their speed, jogging to the road that would take them to the school house, in wide eyed horror.


	3. Three

Tyler's hands shook during his test. To his side, Brendon was hunched over scribbling down his answers with a dull pencil. The desks in the large, silent room were simple. Each desk was a dark umber stained tabletop held up by four rods of lighter wood. Every desk had an array of fading pencil marks and dips from finger nails. As far as Tyler knew, these desks were half as old as Salutem. Which would make the humble little school house one hundred in age. Because of the barren wasteland, wood was in demand but harder to find. Most of the material was reused from rubble to build up. More recently (the last one hundred and fifty years) a dense forest of thinner sticks popped up near the town's farmland. Those fruitless trees were a source for all the wood they need.

After thirty minutes of his hands violently shaking, Tyler finally gripped his bony fingers around the tiny yellow painted nub of a pencil. Hastily, Tyler scrawled him down on to the paper. The signature was messy and smudged. Tyler Joseph barely looked as such. Before he moved to the first question, he sucked in a hearth heated breath. Steading his hand by propping his cloth covered elbow, he scanned over the first question. He filled it in quickly and moved on. His simple process continued until he turned the page. His lips parted in shock at the next question.

Is it possible for a humans' DNA to change because of over exposure to radiation? True or false?

Shakily, Tyler filled his burning lungs that were dissatisfied from shock. Was the Officer really right? Of course he was. Tyler shook away the doubt. There was no reason to question the man's authority. If the boy was really poisoned by radiation he would be taken care of so no one else would be affected. That blonde boy would get better, Tyler assured himself.

Quickly, Tyler finished the test, not bothering to check his answers. Sliding out of his desk, he treaded on light feet towards Mr. Toro's desk. Mr. Toro sat absent to the working teens, he looked over a calendar filling out lesson plans for the next month. Turning his thin test packet over, Tyler slammed it on the desk with such force that Mr. Toro jumped in his seat. "Sorry." Came Tyler's muttered reply. With his head bowed Tyler went straight back to his desk. 

Their school room was set up just like the others. Four rows of three desks were evenly spread out across the room, a student at each. One long table stood higher in front of them. Mr. Toro's desk was cluttered with various books, pencils, and thick, overlapping stacks of papers. A white dusted black board took up the back wall. 

The rest of the school day was an anxious blur. Brendon rose his hand to crack a dumb joke a couple times. He tended to do that when Tyler seemed stressed, but today it was to calm both of their hyper nerves. They ate lunch huddled together with desks touching. Every once and a while Brendon would tear off a piece of his sandwich and hand feed it to Tyler. Though most thought otherwise, Tyler and Brendon were not a couple. They fell somewhere in the odd grey area of best friends and friends with benefits. They had never gone farther than a quick peck to the cheek or forehead, though. Finally, Mr. Toro dismissed the lot and Brendon and Tyler locked hands. Instead of heading back to the town square, the two headed farther into the street to pick up Jenna. Brendon held both of their books under his strong arm.

"Do we have to pick up Jenna today? It's cold." Brendon whined while chewing his bottom lip lightly. He squeezed Tyler's warm hand.

"Yes. She doesn't like going home alone while everyone is rushing around." Tyler retorted. Jenna and Tyler were as close as siblings. He went to the lather for advice or even a quick hug. Jenna was the youngest of the four, as have turning fifteen that year, though she carried herself as much older. In twenty minutes, they had gotten Jenna from her school house and they were on their path home, fingers laced together. As they neared their home, Jenna spoke up in her light voice.

"How was your walk to school?"

"Odd," the younger boy stated simply. 

Brendon huffed heavily, "Some boy got caught with radiation poisoning," his voice lowered as he leaned in, "he got called a 'mutant'." 

Jenna's diamond blue eyes grew as she gasped in awe. Tyler only shook his head. They were silent all the way to the orphanage and through the doorframe.


	4. Four

The room was lit with the soft glow of a candle hat night. It casted a orange tint on Nicole and Brendon's face. Brendon was cuddled up in a spare of white wool blanket, shaking from the chills that ran up his spine. Nicole sat cross legged on her bed. Her bed was pushed up against the far, wood paneled wall. The bed rested right against the sill of the second window in the room. She cupped the copper candle holder in her hands that rested on her lap. Tyler sat facing the other window, in front of him was Jenna, her hair down. The loose blonde waves sparkled golden in the dim, warm light. With gentle hands, Tyler sectioned of the feathery strands into three thick parts of hair. He lightly tapped the thin fabric of Jenna's night gown that covered her shoulders. Reaching behind her, she dangled a silky, pale pink ribbon between two of her fingers. Tyler smiled as he took the ribbon and placed it in the bedding between his legs. Starting with the left section, he placed it over the middle section of wavy blonde. Taking that in his right fingers, he crossed over the right section and pulled it tightly to her hairline. He repeated the process gradually as he hummed a light tune. He continued the pattern until only an inch of not weaved together hair was left. Picking of the smooth, fraying ribbon up from Jenna's bedsheets, he placed in under the end of the braid. He crossed the middle over itself and pulled the right end under. Then he made two loops and tied them. 

"There you go, Jen." Tyler said, quietly. Tyler and Jenna taps shoulders as Jenna turned around, a soft smile taking over her face. Her cheeks were dusted with a coral color that matched the pink color of her lips. Jenna was a bright girl. She was observant and knew here way around a garden. Mr. Armstrong used to have a small herb garden before he pulled everything out, claiming it would get poisoned by the sun. But when it was around, Jenna would go out to take care of it each morning before Mr. Armstrong came around to make them breakfast. 

The usual muted creak of the old, dusty staircase grew louder. Next came the moaning creek of the rusty joint's of the door. Mr. Armstrong's messy head of aging hair peaked through the crack of the door as it swung open.His dark eyes peered over the four forgotten kids, they landed on the candle in Nicole's hands. "Light's out. Remember no dinner for a week if I catch you sneaking out after town curfew... Tyler." His eyes landed on the smirking boy, now standing on his wiry lower limbs.

"It was one time!" Tyler pouted, throwing his body onto his assigned bed, boxspring creaking. Brendon brought his blanket up to his mouth, muffling his string of snickers. 

"'One time' huh? Was it worth the public humiliation?" Nicole raised her eyebrows as she questioned. She ran her flour dusted nails through her hair. Her fingers traveled to the handle of the copper candle stick. Smoothly she brought it to her line of sight and blew it out with one soft breath. The fire sizzled and went out in a thin creek of light smoke. Nicole set down the candlestick with a soft tap to the end table between her's and Jenna's beds. 

"Goodnight. Don't let the radiation get ya!" Mr. Armstrong chuckled deeply. Jumbled 'goodnights' called out after him. He vanished with the close of the door. 

"We're not five." Brendon muttered, pushing the blanket way from his face.

"Actually, you are." Tyler teased, readjusting his flattened pillow. He could here Jenna's candy coated giggles bouncing off the rotting walls. He wasn't sure what he would do without the three others.


	5. Five

After a boring, routine week, Brendon came home from school with a burning fever. His ghostly skin was hot to the touch. With a swimming, dizzy head and heavy bones, Brendon had slowly collected all the blankets in the bed room, turning up with five lint covered wool blankets. Piling the blankets on his week body, he curled up his limbs up. The weight was comforting, giving him peace in his uncomfortable state. Bright red coated the tip of his irritated nose. He sniffed back the drainage. Just as the boy had closed his eyes, the creaking of the steps thundered in his eardrums, the door followed. Tyler stumbled in, his nose running and posture weak. Coughing in his long sleeved shirt, he pulled off his shoes one by one using his feet. The shoes sat abandoned behind the closed door.

"Move over." Tyler said, it was almost a low, gravely purr. Brendon complied, moving his frame with the soft crinkle of the grey lien sheets. The mattress groaned under the smaller boy's addition of weight. Soft groans passed Tyler's rough, cracking lips as he twisted and turned to find the right spot. Landing on a place under the blankets that was close to Brendon's soft heart beat, Tyler melted into the touch of the bare, heated flesh. Muscular arms wrapped around his aching shoulders. The older's touch sent webs of comfort spreading in bursts starting from his shoulders and down his curved spine. It would burst and would crawl its wat around Tyler's body.

"You'll get sicker if you stay." Brendon whispered, his hot breath colliding with Tyler's heated forehead.

"I'm already sick, genius. We're both burning up." Tyler mumbled into Brendon's stick shirt. The sticky sweat coated his cracking lips. "Can you go get some water?"

Brendon scoffed, coughing out his answer, "No! It's cold out and I'm sick. I don't know how we got sick. No one at school was."

The tanned brunet wiggled his frame up to Brendon's soft padded collar bone. The oily hairs made Brendon squirm, a shiver running down his spinal collum. Heat was plenty inside the hoard of blankets.

"I don't know either. Maybe it's starting with us? It's just a fever." The other hummed. Taking the muggy, thin fabric of Brendon's shirt in his fist he pulled it down, exposing the rosy, clean flesh of his chest. Freckles were few on his chest, stars on a watercolor bleed sky. Placing his pounding ear on the flesh slowly, Brendon shook at the blast of cool skin. His booming, standard drum beat hit Tyler's eardrum in low bass feeling vibrations. Warm air filled the pairs lungs.

"Mr. Toro failed me on that test." The smaller's voice was soft, breathy, it sunk into his companion's pores.

The other chuckled, ribcage bouncing against the boy's face, "How? It was easy!"

"Too shaken up from that day where that kid got dragged off."

"I could tell. You were shaking." Brendon's plump lips were buried in the soft tuffs of hair of the form beside him, lips moving up and down on the scalp.

"Just scared... Do you think Nicole could take us with her when she leaves?"

Huffing, the other replied, "I wish. I don't think the government would allow that though, least Mr. Armstrong says so. I'll miss her."

"Me too, but she'll be happier and close by." A smile tugged at Tyler's lips.

"When we get outta here we could save up for the rented room above the post office. I heard there's a huge bed in there"

"I don't think we'll ever get out of-" a cough racked through Tyler's body. It tore his throat raw, snot collecting in his mouth. Quickly he sucked the bile tasting substance back down. His body curved inwards as continued his fit. Brendon only rubbed his back. "But that would be nice."

"You alright?" Brendon cooed, the warmth of his voice traveling over Tyler's throbbing skull.

"Yeah. I am"

"Things will be different without Nicole, huh? We'll be at each other's throats more. She's our concrete, we crumble without her."

"I crumble without you." Tyler's small voice didn't reach Brendon's ears. "You think Armstrong will let us stay home tomorrow?" He asked, much louder.

"Yes. We're covered in snot and burning like a candle."

"Mr. Toro will enjoy tomorrow then." Tyler laughed out, followed by a small coughing fit.

Brendon did not respond, he lay stone still, almost as if no muscles we're moving. The drum beat in his chest rapidly sped up, shaking his ribcage. His cloudy, red eyes grew, a sliver veil flashing over the pair of marbles.

"B-Bren?" Tyler's breath quickened, moving his head away from the still pile of bones. The next breath he took in was met with icey, frozen pain. It began in the back of his skull, a slow scream. It pricked at the bones like thistles in the summer. Low humming grew in the depths of his consciousness as the searing pain traveled around his head like a carousel, taunting him. Groaning, his legs straightened. His next breaths stung, his throat feel claustrophobic. Hot tears seemed to cool his cheeks as he squeezed his eyes closed with pressure. Black began to spot his reddened vision. The darkness ate him whole and he faded away.


	6. Six

Sweat coated his body in a thick, sticky layer. It stuck to every pore. His bones yelled, screaming out for relief. The blood the raced through his vein was burning like hot neon. With slowly turning gears, his brain slowly processed the sickness. Then his brain gave in. Sickness consumed the soft organ in a have of misty bright green. His body roared in the darkness.

His body jolted forward, chest heaving up and down. The world was in blobs of dull colors. His breath was unsatisfactory. Dark brown hair was matted down on his sticky forehead. He blinked rapidly. Soft crinkles of fabric moving came from his left. The muted, dull thumps of bare feet neared. Warmth still radiated from next to him.

"Tyler! Tyler! Oh my god are you okay? You were conscious for a long time! It's midnight and Nicole had to go to the bakery and I stayed up to watch you and Brendon. Are you okay!" Small, delicate hands wrapped around his bare stomach. He didn't remember taking his shirt off.

Jenna gasped in pain as soon as she touched Tyler's shiny skin. It was an airy, light gasp, followed by a choke. Tyler blinked away his blurry vision, puffy eyes landing on Jenna. She was seated on her bed, hair ratty, with her hands in her lap. The bright whites off her eyes shone in the dark, her diamond eyes small. With her pinky fingernail, she peeled off a translucent, fingerprint shaped sheet of white dead skin off of her thumb. It floated down in between the floor boards. "What- you... You killed it!" Jenna's voice shook along with her hands as she peeled the dead skin off of her next finger. "But your skin... it's not peeling. Oh God, Tyler are you alright? I took your shirt off because you were sweating I took Brendon's off too. I-I don't know what to do!" She cried out, sore fingers touching her face as she shook. "Are you... dying?" She looked through his thin fingers, pink pinched eyes soft in concern.

Tyler swung his legs over the mattress, shaking knees landing level with the ground. His used his pointer finger to trace the veins on his palm. He shook his head, "No. I feel stronger. More alert." He spoke slowly, grounding himself and his thoughts. Tyler turned around, the other half of the small twin sized bed was empty. Tyler cocked an eyebrow. "Did B leave."

"No. I took the covers off of him a few minutes ago." Jenna spoke softly. Tyler placed his hand on what he thought would be empty sheets, but felt warmth under his floating hand. A low sizzle sounded as the warmth below him heated up. He jerk his hand away. The form of a bare backed Brendon flowed back in. Color and shape appeared at his head traveling down his body in a silver sheen. Brendon shot up panting, much like Tyler, once his form shown. Right above his belly button, a peeling, white handprint sat, inflamed red at the edges.

"What the hell happened? My stomach stings." Brendon brought up a hand to his head. The silver sheen coated Brendon's hand a disappeared.

"Brendon, your hand!" Jenna gasped. Brendon's hand a vanished out of sight.

"Holy- that's incredible!" Brendon brought his hand down and poked it was the visible one. His hand flicked one color again. He looked down. "What happened to my stomach"

"My skin," Tyler started, "I think it kills now."

Jenna darted up and rushed down the stairs. Brendon puckered his lips and hissed as he peeled away the dead skin. Thundering footsteps soon followed the feather light steps of Jenna. Mr. Armstrong pushed open the door with such force that it bounced off the back wall. His face was cold, eyes dusted with red.

"What the fuck have you done to yourselves! She's terrified and shaking telling me that you're turning invisible and killing skin!" His voice boomed. Jenna took to her bed and shook, crying into her knees. "You've stayed out in the sun too long! Basement, now! I'm getting Control tomorrow morning! Go!" He stepped away from the doorframe and pointed to the staircase. The boys collected themselves and zoomed through the house, only stopping when they were at the bottom of the pitch black basement and the door lock clicked.


	7. Seven

It was cold in the morning, Tyler hand no one to warm him. Brendon was huddled up in the corner, fading in and out. Every time he would fade back into reality, that waving silver edge would appear and color his skin. Tyler's tear ducts were run dry, eyes puffy and itchy. He knew he was going to die. Him and Brendon would be sent away and forgotten. Jenna would be left scared and alone in their, empty damp and cold room. The concrete he was lying flat on, dug into his back, gritty. He didn't want to be trapped here. Why him? His mine kept swimming, jumping and running. His thoughts slowed when Brendon began to stir. The boy sat up, his limbs sore and colorful. His hair fit in the shadows like a missing piece to a puzzle, sliding in perfectly. The darkness casted splotchy shadows on his sharp jawline. "You up?" Brendon's low morning voice echoed of the barren walls of the small basement. He pulled himself up and walked over to the boy lying on his back, sitting a foot away from him. Tyler pulled up his top half, weak arms behind him, supporting his frame. 

"Yes. Sleep well?" He joked, sarcasm dripping from his laugh. He ran his tongue over his cracking, numb lips. 

Brendon scoffed, a smile spreading on his darkened face. "Like a baby. You really think Mr. Armstrong is going to get the Controllers over here?" Tension choked the two boys. It was heavy, weighing down their aching shoulder, make them slump over.

"Yes. We're sick, Brendon. I hurt Jenna. I can't do that again." His voice was low, wavering. His arms and shoulders shook as he looked at his upturned palms. They were deadly now. He assumed he could learn to control it, the energetic and alert feeling only came in bursts. It would be difficult to master, taking years to not accidentally kill of every living being within a mile. 

Brendon grit his teeth, soft grinding sounding from within, "They'll hurt us. We're not normal. People hurt things that aren't different." He crossed his legs over one another. "They'll want to know how we we tick. Poke around inside us."

Tyler gulped and jumped as he heard Mr. Armstrong's booming voice say, "They're down there." He could imagine the the cold daze he held with the Officers, mentally throwing stones at him and Brendon. Heavy, metal soled footsteps travelled down the aging steps. Two faceless men in black body armor stood on the dusty, concrete floor. One stepped towards Tyler, he could feel the man's eyes drilling holes into his skull. "Stand." He grunted, it was sharp and quick. Just like the voice, Tyler sprung to his feet, eyes wide. "Hold your hands out." The officer ordered. Tyler's arms shot out in front of him, palms out. Thick, scratchy gloves were pulled out to his hands, sliding against the skin. Then, a cool, metallic, neon green strip of metal was clipped to his wrist. The same was done to Brendon. By their hands, the were roughly dragged upstairs. The door hung open and a crisp, black van with a neon green stripe across it stood outside. 

Jenna bolted down the stairs in a blur of pale pink and gold. "Tyler!" She shouted, breath panicked. Then everything became a blur. Incoherent shouting pounded on his eardrums. Jenna's dainty hands pulled him free of the soldier's grasp. He fell face first onto the hardwood below, blood gushing from his nostrils. The gunshot sounded next. Crimson flowed like a toxic river to his fingertips. It smelled sickly, but almost sweet. Tyler screamed as he was pulled upwards, hands behind his back. 

Jenna's still body was ghostly pale. Limbs bent in odd ways, covered in her own blood that also coated the floor. Her hair was strewn about and tainted with red. Her glassy eyes were dead, staring at the chipping ceiling. Tyler gaged when his eyes met the clean bullet hole right between her faded, dull, gone eyes. Tyler could only scream and choke out sobs of her name as he and Brendon were dragged away from the place- the people they once called home. The house faded away as they neared the van, just like Jenna.


	8. Eight

It was frigid in the pitch black van. Tyler rocked back and forth in utter dazed shock, arms wrapped around his leg, squeezing his muscles. She was dead. He would never set eyes on her bright whimsy smile or ever hear her chipper laugh. She was destined to the isolated mass grave across town.

He did not bother to hold back his tears and sobs of eternal pain. The splatters of red would be drilled to the back of his eyelids. Dark flashes of red and pink every time he would blink. She attempted to save him. She wanted to help. She was the only candle of hope still lit. But the Officer in the driver's seat hand gone and recklessly blown her out. The only flame left was the bright burning one flickering in Tyler's chest. Maybe soon his would be blown out like Jenna's. His gory thoughts drifted to his heart in the form of heart wrenching worry for Nicole. Tonight she would sleep in a cold room, alone. The presence ofJenna would quickly fade. Her floral scent will be washed out with soap and hot . water, her few belongings chucked away alone with his and Brendon's. Maybe Nicole could snag Jenna's favorite ribbon before it's thrown out. An image of a grieving Nicole came rushing into the front of his lids. Her eyes we sunken in with dark half moons, a bright blue ribbon tied around her wrist. Tyler forcefully shook his head, rattling the bold image out of his brain. Gone, gone dead! his brain roared, red falling over him. His temple crashed into the tin siding of the van, the side of his skull pulsing with pain. He focus on the spots in his vision. Only that. Not Jenna, not Nicole, not Brendon. Only and just the pain bouncing on his head.

"Nicole... do you think she'll be alright? Not fully alright but enough to keep moving on?Everything, it happened so fast." Brendon breathed out. His voice was much airier, not grumbly and lodged in his throat as normal. "She'll be lonely. She won't have anyone to take care off..." His words dropped off to a sob. He was holding it all in, for Tyler's sake. He wanted to cradle Tyler in his shaking arms, kissing away the pain. 

"Do you think Jen is in a better place? With better dresses and a large garden?" Tyler asked faintly after he had collected himself. 

In response, Brendon hung his head and nodded, "I would hope."

"I think so. She's happy." Tyler whispered.

The van jerked forward, Brendon falling against the cold sheet of metal below. Doors creaked and slammed shut with a metallic bang. The two vertical doors swung open, Brendon's body falling limply out. He grunted as a metal soled boot dug into his side. His grasped his hands over the exposed back of his neck. The dewy, crinkled grass lighting sliced at his neck. Tyler's shock gasp stung at his eardrums. Brendon was pulled upwards by his long sleeved shirt, the seam screaming a rip. Tyler's pained eyes met him, shaking his head. 

They were forced to the back gate of an electric perimeter with a large, packed brick building. There were only small, rectangular windows lined the top of the flat roofed building. The windows were almost pitch black, at least several layers of the radiation resistant covering. They were being quarantined. To the front of the building was a small woods of fruitless trees, surrounding a piece of farm land. Distant forms of black and neon green worked over the land. 

Tyler gulped, he wondered if he would be better off with Jenna in the clouds.


	9. Nine

Tyler screamed when he was torn away from Brendon. The image of a silver, flying bullet splintering his skull invade his mind in a burst of neon colors. Tyler choked on his spit. The hands gripping his covered shoulders tightened, turning him around and marching him down a bleach soaked hallway. Tyler could hear no sounds or words of protest from his counterpart. Tyler thanked the skies for having the smallest percentage of bare skin showing and that the Officers was not touching his skin. He didn't need to witness anymore death today. 

After a few feet of travel, he was led into a large room with a few bodies floating through it. I was a pristine white room, separated into two sections with a pale, teal textured curtain. A woman in scrubs turned from her work near the sink, her messy black bun bobbing. Tyler was directed to a paper cover, tan examination table. With his gloved hands, he's pushed himself up, shoes swinging off the edge. His reflection was washed whit in the stainless tiling. The bumpy walls were painted a light earthy tan. The Officer escorting him left his side and stood at the doorless frame. Fingers latched around the handle of his pistol. The same pistol that had killed Jenna. The stench of blood still hung in his nostrils. Tyler fixed his eyes on the wall.

The pale woman came into the front of his vision. Her lips had been painted a bright cherry red, like a color at the bakery that Nicole had described. Faintly, a small appeared on the corners of the woman's lips. Grabbing a clipboard stack with paper, she spoke. "Hey. I know things are scary, but you're sick. So I'm going to help you. I'm Nurse Ballato. You are?" She lifted up a sharpened pencil to the first paper, awaiting an answer. 

"Tyler Joseph." His voice came out squeaky, vocal chords shaking. The nurse nodded, scratching down his name. 

"Have you had a strong fever one day this week?" Her eyes were glued to to the paper in her hands. 

"Yesterday. Jen- my friend said I passed out." His eyes crinkled, tears forming. "I was really cold... then everything hurt. When my friend touch my skin, a layer of skin died. I didn't mean to hurt her!" He spilled his guts to a stranger. If he told her everything he needed to know, maybe he could go home. But home wouldn't be the same. With each word out of Tyler's mouth, the woman wrote everything down.

"I'm sorry that happened, honey. I'm going to try to make things better, okay? Here we take care of kids like you. Advanced we call them. We think being overexposed to the radiation mixed with your growing mind and body causes you to mutant. Giving you supernatural powers, huh. But I haven't seen anything like you. You'll need to keep your skin covered. Did you kill of the skin cells instantly?" Tyler listened, he gulped and then nodded. "I'll write in your file that you need gloves and long sleeves." Surprisingly, she kept a cool face, nodding and writing down conclusions. She stretched out her arm, setting down the clipboard, the grabbing a syringe from nearby. Tyler let a tear fall. Ballato clicked her tongue. Blue latex wrapped fingers gently pushed his chin up to meet her soft eyes. "I know it's scary. Everything is changing. Just let me help, okay?" She moved her fingers away and flashed a sympathetic smile. Tyler nodded weakly. "I have to take a little blood. It'll only last a minute." 

Tyler spoke up, suddenly trusting the woman, "Can I hold your hand?" The question was barely above a whisper. Miss Ballato held out her hand to the frightened boy. Tyler gratefully received the gesture, she lightly squeezed his hand. 

He flinched as the sharp point of the needle pressed against a violet vein on his wrist. "You can close your eyes, Tyler. Ready? One, two, three." The dull pain came and the rush of blood leaving his body consumed him for a few seconds. Then soft cotton brushed everything away. Tyler blinked back the bright lighting. "Good job." After putting everything away, the nursed handed a sheet of paper to the boy. "The Officer is going to take you to get your uniform. Hand the paper to one of the people there. You're being very brave, Tyler." 

Tyler took the paper and hopped down from the table. The officer at the door came up to Tyler and grabbed his arm. Tyler gave pleading eyes to the rapidly vanishing form of Miss Ballato. He could only ponder on the thoughts off what the harsh reality would be deeper inside these walls.


	10. Ten

Tyler was now covered in a rich green. Baggy, crinkling long sleeve shirt with matching, musty smelling, baggy pant made of an itchy material. Before he was handed his new clothing, the man who helped him used individual stamps to spell something out on the back of his shirt. 'Deadly Touch' was written across his back in deeply colored ink. He was the only child in that small, fabric softener smelling room. Every employee he meet gripped the end of the taser attached to their belts. The had the freedom to wear whatever he wished, while he was forced into all green. The color of the quarantined kids around him. He was told in a low growl to never take the gloves off of his hands.

He was pushed through the halls again, leaving what he assumed was the medical wing. The walls stayed the same as the passed white paneled doors. Turning left they, stopped at two metal doors with windows. Green coated forms sat at metal tables eating. Loud chatter was muffled by the thick door.

"Go." The Officer handling him grumbled and pointed to the door, he let go of Tyler's shoulder.

Tyler stepped forward. Green canvas shoes clicking on the matte washed tile. His soft padded hands pushed open the door. It swung closed behind him with a loud thump. Few faces turned to face his, going back to their meals. The thundering of voices bounced his skull. Officers stood guard at each corner, hands locked on their pistols.

"New meat comin' in!" A voice embodied by a tan boy in green yelled. He stood on the bench he was seated on. One hand cupped his pale lips and the other pointed at Tyler. He boomed in laughter. His buddies at the table burst out laughing, slapping each other and the table. The boy was of short stature. His skin was darker than the small, thin boy. His build was a lot less bony and Tyler. Dark tuffs of coiled hair framed his square face. Eyes of a chocolate brown, tinted with embers of mischief. A flash of strawberry blonde pulled him back down.

Tyler weaved through tables, avoid any stares of interest. Looks stacked heavy on his back. His hidden hands shook, alone with his frame. His feet skidded to a stop at the front of the table that the boy yelled from.

Strawberry flicked in his line of view. He was met with blinking bright green, blue eyes peered into him. A scowl was shown on his pink lips, eyebrows narrowed. An angered hum came from inside his throat.

This was the broken shell of the boy from the square.

"Peter, I swear to fucking God, stop screaming at the newbies. It doesn't help." The boy muttered, voice more masculine that his fragile appearance. Shoveling a spoon of mushy food into his mouth, he slapped the boy next to him- Peter- with the back of his his pale hand. Two other boys sat at the small table. One was of a build similar to Tyler's. His wavy brown locks we're cropped above his ears. His eyebrows were groomed. His dark marbles of eyes bright.

The other boy was a muscular build. Almond eyes crinkled in laughter. His head was bare, a ghostly forest of brown. Bright teeth shown through his plump dusty rose lips. A handful of light brown freckles spread out across his face. Three holes were in the flesh of his face. One, a small one on is left nostril, barely noticeable. The second and third were two quarter sized ones on his earlobes. He was enchanting.

"You can sit." The boy from the square said lightly, though his face was stoney. He patted the seat next to him with the squeak of rubber gloves. Tyler's heart rose as he realized as he was not alone in being forced to keep his Advancement at bay rather than learning to control them. "The asshole next to me is Pete. The lanky, limp noodle is Ryan. And the laughing mess is Josh. I'm Patrick."

Tyler met eyes with Josh, "Tyler, I'm uh Tyler."

"Welcome to hell, fresh meat!" Pete announced, downing the rest of his food.


End file.
